


Home

by Avidfangirlforlife



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:30:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avidfangirlforlife/pseuds/Avidfangirlforlife
Summary: A soulmate AU.





	Home

Often, in the quiet moments of your life, you sit and you wonder. You find yourself thinking about how many lives the two of you still have together. Sometimes it makes you panic, in a wide eyed and breath stealing kind of way. Because in each life you have had so far, the two of you have found one another. You have always found a way to be together.

When you sit and take a moment to contemplate it, you have to question if there is a limit to how many lives the two of you can share. Lives in which you get to love and laugh and smile and live. Lives in which you get to cry and grieve and hurt and grow. Lives in which you simply get to be together.

You wonder if other people are as lucky as you are. If they get a soul mate in each and every incarnation. If they get to find the other half to themselves every time they search for it. You wonder if they get to remember each and every wonderful moment. 

Somehow, you get to remember everything, from start to finish. The good and the bad. Imprinted upon your soul, she is an integral part of your existence. And she always has been. You have a sneaking suspicion that she always will be.

Sometimes you have days when all you can think about is every painful thing hat has ever happened to the two of you. Delia always tell you that it isn’t good to dwell. She often tells you that it does no good, because neither of you can change the past. She doesn’t want it to take away from the now. She thinks that the two of you should make the most of your time together, each and every time you get to find one another.

Her philosophy has become, over time, that the two of you should live each life together as though it were your last. You suppose, that after how everything between the two of you started, you shouldn’t be surprised by this. It always seems to come back to that.

Even after all of the centuries that have passed since then, it still lingers. Even after all of the years the two of you have spent loving one another, it still smarts. There is an old wound that aches in the cold feeling of its’ memory.

The two of you have shared so much through the millennia. There have been so many shared moments. Not all of them are happy, but each and every one shines. Even after all of that neither of you can shake the memory of the tragedy that encompasses how the two of you began. 

New souls born, the two of you had been linked from the very first meeting of the eyes. Perhaps the link could have happened even before then. You had been torn apart in the most brutal of ways. The moment of you being torn apart is something you can see every time you close your eyes. It is forever imprinted upon the back of your eyelids.

In the first life the two of you had shared, you had spent most of your life searching. For meaning, for acceptance, for a home, you had never quite known what you were looking for. You had searched and searched and searched, endlessly so. It had all been fruitless. You had searched for the thing you were missing, never knowing what it was.

You had spent your life tired and disillusioned. Weary down to your bones, with no idea how to fix it. Every day that you had lived had taken more and more effort. Making yourself move every day had taken an effort that you struggled to make.

All you had wanted was to be able to stop searching. To find the thing, the part of yourself that you were missing. Every day, as you had wandered almost aimlessly from place to place, you had scanned the crowds searching for something. You were searching for someone to make you feel whole (although you hadn’t known that at the time). You had desperately wanted your search to end, no matter what.

One day, when you had almost resigned yourself to your fate and to the emptiness, you had come across her beating clothing on the banks of a river. As you had passed the two of you had made eye contact, and something had simply fallen into place. Her eyes, deep and kind and inviting, had captured you completely in less than a moment. 

From that moment on, it has been inevitable. Your search had ended, and you would never have to look again. Quietly, you had settled yourself in the woods outside of her village. Away from the prying eyes and questioning tongues. You had settled yourself, and then you had waited.

It had taken some time (she had certainly kept you waiting), nut she had come to seek you in the woods. The passion that had coursed between the two of you had felt almost like witchcraft. It had raged like a fire, hot and dangerous and uncontrollable, with a promise to never dampen.

Looking back, that had probably been your downfall. You had loved her, from that very first moment by the river. It had all come to an end, rather abruptly and painfully. One day, her husband had followed her out of their house in the village. His curiosity had led him to follow her and so he had caught the two of you.

The pain that had followed was almost enough to make you regret all that had happened. Regret caused, not by the pain caused to you, by the unendurable pain caused to your love.  
Her husband, in his endless fury at his wife’s transgression, had murdered the pair of you. In the eyes of ancient lore, so had been his right. Sadistic unto the last he had made you watch as your love had suffered first. Her screams as the flames had consumed her had pierced you deeper than any wound he could inflict.

When he had finally turned his anger on you, after the fire had burnt itself out and nothing had remained of her except ash, it had been the sweetest relief. Before he had run you through with his blade, you had spat in his face and cursed his soul. A part of you still wishes that he had truly suffered for it.

That first life together had locked your souls together in an eternal dance. It had brought the two of you together and kept you eternally linked. However, it has also caused you both memories so painful that it was best not to think about it.

A conclusion that you have safely come to, after all of these years, is that your favourite lives are the ones that the two of you have shared completely. The ones you treasure the most are the ones in which you know each other so wholly that you truly are two halves. Two halves of the same entity. The lives in which you grow with each other, and give one another something wonderful.

You cherish the lives in which the two of you can love together, and grow old together. When you can love each other openly, without fear of consequences or judgement. When the two of you are not the others best kept secret, written on the others’ hearts but hidden in every other respect.

In which the love the two of you share, deeper than that which most people feel for another, deeper than that then most will ever know, can be explored without repercussions. The ones in which you can raise a family, and leave a legacy that lasts through the ages. You love knowing the boundless jy of being a mother with Delia at your side.

Over the countless centuries the two of you have shared, Delia’s soul has grown so familiar to you that you are almost certain that you know it better than your own. You know the other woman so well that sometimes you almost know what she is thinking. In most cases, all it takes is her eyes meeting yours, no matter how furtive the glance.

The sappy part of you likes to think that it’s because her eyes are like home. She is your home. Her warmth and sincerity and endless kindness. Her boundless energy and breathless laugh and the quirk of her lips that always seems to appear when the two of you have kissed for the first time. It doesn’t matter how her features change, the quirk is always there.

She is your safe place.

She is yours. And you are hers. Wholly and completely. The two of you make a rather beautiful story. There are plenty of twists and turns, high and lows. There is nearly always a happy, if slightly bittersweet, ending.

You like to think though, when you really take the time to, that the best part is in the not completely knowing. It means that you get to find home all over again. You get to know her and grow with her and love her from the beginning all over again. That, you think, is a gift that just keeps on giving.


End file.
